


Nothing

by Angelwarrior1



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural
Genre: Anal, Angst, Crossover, Crossover Pairing, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-06
Updated: 2012-06-06
Packaged: 2017-11-07 02:49:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/426086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelwarrior1/pseuds/Angelwarrior1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam remembers a night during the year he had no soul. Sam Winchester/Harry Potter</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: So this takes places during Sam's time without his soul. Obviously Harry is done with the war, and that nightmare people refer to as the epilogue is not included. Personally, I just ask what epilogue everyone is talking about, as I've permanently blocked it from my brain.

He rocketed forward, pistoning his hips inward then back out. Low moans assaulted his ears. His partner was feeling pleasure, or maybe pain, he couldn't tell. The sensation of his dick being incased in what felt like a silk sheath was nice, but he didn't feel one way or the other about anything. 

He didn't care if the body he was ramming into felt pleasure or pain. Didn't care if the person he was using for his own gratification was actually enjoying themselves, or if he was their worst fuck ever. He didn't care about any of it.

Every time he reached his peak, there was this almost-feeling. Like if he could just push a little more, he could fuck some feeling back into himself. Disappointment always hit after he came down from the orgasm induced high, only to find he still felt nothing.

Maybe, just maybe if he stared into his partner's very green- and were they glowing?- eyes, maybe he'd give a shit what happened to this person afterwards. His mind knows that he used to care, used to care about perfect strangers all the time.

Now he can't. Not he's this shell of a man that he knows used to be so much more. He meant something to at least a few people. To Dean. Now he's alive, breathing, walking, and talking. He can think clearly, and he knows he's thinking quicker now that he doesn't have emotions clouding his every judgment.

So why does that empty hole inside bother him? How can he feel this feeling of emptiness in the first place? It's the only thing he can feel.

"Sam." Plump red lips whispered as he pulled out of his distraction for the night.

Sam raised his empty eyes up what looked to be a sated body and rested upon the bright green eyes. Black hair, that he's already had a hold of earlier during the night, fans out in wild waves on the white cheap motel pillow. A face that was very attractive and held wide almond eyes, a straight delicate nose, and plush pink lips that he'd easily turned red by smashing his mouth roughly onto the other's. The body was small, tiny compared to his, and lithe. It had light muscles, and a few scars here and there. 

Sam knows, that if he could feel, he'd likely be curious about this man he's taken to his motel room. He would wonder about the scars on his body, and the haunted look he's caught in those eyes that just seemed to grab his attention. It was odd how he'd decided that this man- Harry- would be his conquest for the night. He'd seen him and was about to just keep walking, when the greenest eyes just snared his own and he couldn't look away because it was like he could almost feel again.

He should've known, though, that just like when hitting his peak, almost was never enough. It didn't matter how many times he hit that place that for a split second he could maybe define as feeling something, it was always too quick for him to catch. He couldn't grab on. He was lost.

He was nothi-

"Sammy?" Sam snapped his eyes over to look at his brother, in the driver's seat.

"Yeah?" 

"You alright?" Dean had that furrowed brow he always got when he was worried about Sam, and when wasn't he worried about Sam?

"Yeah. Just thinking."

"Thinking? About?" Dean gave him a skeptical look.

"Nothing, just thinking."

"Uh huh."

"Look what do you want me to say?"

"Just wondering what's got you thinkin' so hard that you've got that look you get."

"What look?" Sam was getting annoyed by Dean's questions.

"The one that says you're thinking about some heavy shit. Look, I know you wanna remember. I know this is frustrating for you, but you can’t start pickin’ at that wall, man. It’s too dangerous. So, what exactly were you thinking about?"

"Just, the color green." Sam sighed as he stared out the passenger window.

Dean just glanced at him in bewilderment.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I meant for this to come out more sex fueled, but Sam had to go and think all over it like he does for everything. *Sighs* Bobby was correct when he said; "You always were one deep 'lil sum bitch." (Yeah, that's how he said it, just love that country accent.) So, sorry. I tried to steer it back to the porn, but Sam's big well of philosophical brooding just came all over the place. You should've seen Harry, he was pissed. Hardly got any scene time. *Shrugs* Review, I guess. Might explore more of this pocket universe I just created.
> 
> -Angelwarrior1


End file.
